


Strut

by Vee



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Public Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 13:37:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vee/pseuds/Vee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kagami congratulates Aomine on a very flashy win in his own special way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strut

**Author's Note:**

> Another fill for a kink meme [prompt](http://knb-kink.dreamwidth.org/1083.html?thread=101691#cmt101691)!

His eyes darted over to the hand on the wall just next to his head. Kagami had intended it to be a punch, maybe, but had wisely reconsidered at the last moment, choosing to just slam his palm against the wall in frustration. 

No words were said, but that’s the way it usually was. Very often since they’d first been together, Aomine and Kagami would simply look at one another, sizing up a conversation and one another’s emotions before saying useless things. 

Kagami looked winded, Aomine thought, but the sight only made him smirk more. The euphoria of victory and the exhilaration of adrenaline from the heat of combat were still pushing him along, yet Kagami might as well have been fresh from the court himself. A few other people passed behind them through the hall, and one or two tossed congratulations Aomine’s way. He didn’t react, waiting instead for Kagami.

“Here to congratulate me personally? What a pleasant surprise. Isn’t your next match tomorrow? Shouldn’t you be res--”

He was hauled up by the collar before he knew it, and couldn’t suppress a chuckle as Kagami shoved him to walk ahead. “Move.”

“This isn’t the way to the locker room. And you can’t follow me there, anyway.” He was purposefully baiting him.

Kagami knew it. Careful not to catch the eyes of any passersby, he leaned in over Aomine’s shoulder and hissed in his ear. “Start walking, we’ll find a place.”

Aomine’s adrenaline surged in a totally different way, yet he only tossed one hand up and went head. “Sure, whatever.”

They passed three alcoves and a restroom. Finally, once Aomine was nearly tired of waiting, he felt himself being dragged back, again by the collar. 

“Rough,” he chastised Kagami with no real trace of annoyance once they were ducked behind a small partition between arena entrances. 

Instead of receiving a reply, Aomine was just shoved hard into the wall, trapped between the concrete and Kagami’s body, and kissed with breathless intensity. 

When his lips were finally free, Aomine spoke again. “Oh, I must have done well.”

He smelled of sweat, which was something they’d learned to only appreciate in one another. That sort of smell meant they were in their element. It meant great things on either side of the bedroom games they’d started to perfect last summer, when it was no longer enough to simply perfect the ones on the court. 

“You knew what you were doing. Showing off like that. You knew we were watching. You knew _I_ was watching.”

He scoffed and glanced aside. Kagami was still pressed against him, but neither moved. Aomine’s posture remained quite unaffected. “I was just trying to win.”

“You destroyed them. They were sixth in the nation last year and you walked all over them with hardly any help at all. I’m surprised you let Sakurai take even 3 points. It turned into an excuse for you to just… strut.” Kagami practically spat the last word, but Aomine heard the desire in it.

He shrugged and still wouldn’t look at Kagami, just smirking as if it didn’t matter. “The seniors graduated. They’re weaker this year. Plus, their point guard got injured last week, and—“

“I know that! Damn, you’re annoying.” He grabbed Aomine’s face and forced him to look him in the eye, wanting to kiss him again but knowing he was going to say something. 

A few moments passed. Aomine’s smirk nearly turned into an evil smile, looking at Kagami with his face flushed so beautifully. “So how hard does it make you? Watching me like that? Did you already take care of it or were you kind enough to save it for me?”

Kagami tightened his grip on Aomine’s chin and pushed him against the wall again, meeting the words with a crushing kiss. His fingers loosened and drifted roughly over Aomine’s neck, slick with sweat, down the front of his jersey. His hips ground up into Aomine’s thigh. He hadn’t been less than half-mast since the second half. Not that he would give Aomine the satisfaction of knowing as much. Other payment for his little show would do the trick. 

As his hands pushed impatiently at the band of Aomine’s shorts, Kagami felt the weight of their position shift. Aomine was trying to turn him. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you against the wall. Don’t you want some relief from all that tension, Ka-ga-mi? Isn’t that why you brought me back here?” Aomine grabbed an earlobe between his teeth and nipped, chuckling darkly. 

With a throw of his hips, Kagami stopped the powerful attempt, and trapped Aomine once more. It was even more exciting, they both agreed, when they jockeyed for position like this. It was all depending, of course, on the whims of the other, but sometimes they took the concept of 1-on-1 to all new levels. “You forget, I’m playing tomorrow.”

“I didn’t forget,” Aomine sneered and lifted his chin just enough to look down on Aomine, not content to be back under his power. “What’s the matter, afraid I’ll throw you off?”

“No, dumbass.” They were pushing against one another, hips rolling together when they weren’t drawing up like animals body-to-body. “I need to still be able to walk, and after a show like that I’m afraid of what you’re capable of.”

Aomine closed his eyes and tilted his head down, glowing with that heinous self-assurance that made Kagami want to shove his face into the bed. Often, he did. All they had right now was a narrow partition to hide behind in a national arena still packed with people. It would have to do. “True. But you owe me after this.”

“Turn around.”

“You aren’t scared? That we’ll get caught?”

“Bullshit. I hope we get caught. I hope you scream.”

“Just try and make me.” Holding his eyes for as long as possible, Aomine twisted beneath Kagami to brace against the wall. 

“You didn’t really plan this well,” he said a few moments later, still bracing, still waiting. “If you know how hot and bothered you get when you watch me play, you could have at least brought some lube or something.”

“Shut up.” Kagami slapped the back of his head and then put the same hand in front of Aomine’s face. “Spit.”

“Gross.”

“You’re gross, you sweaty skank.”

Somehow, they got on with it. That’s always how it started out, though. Their personalities never changed for all the months and all the long summer nights spent cooling off under the open windows in Kagami’s bedroom, the source of the workout only more relevant as time went on. Kagami matched him ounce for ounce in every way, but then there were those times – for instance, unexpectedly during the Inter-High Quarterfinals – when he would step back and see just how formidable Aomine was, how fearsome and impossible. Those times, he would stop the posturing for just a few minutes, losing himself to the dizzying reality that such an impossible thing was _his_ , had chosen to be with him, had agreed to accept his respect and affection and utter, implacable physical hunger.

Kagami moved slowly at first as he rocked into Aomine’s body, forced to reconcile the warrior on the court with the lithe, pliable creature he became at the first motions of sex. Aomine groped back to find his hand and pulled it around to his cock, lacing their fingers together and urging Kagami to stroke him.

“Heh,” Kagami panted, pulling firmly down on the length as he pushed deeper inside. Aomine’s fingers curled on the concrete. “How is it?”

“Move faster,” Aomine responded simply. 

His hips rolled at a sharper rhythm and Aomine matched his pace, pushing back into him as Kagami began to thrust himself to a boiling point. He wouldn’t last, and neither would his lover. They were too riled up, too far along in their excitement, not to mention pre-tournament training had kept them from each other for weeks. 

Footsteps fell on the hallway just beyond the partition. Aomine tensed and Kagami leaned down to drag his tongue over one balmy shoulder, not even slowing his hips as he whispered: “Don’t scream, A-o-mi-ne…”

The footsteps stopped and a soft conversation was taking place just outside of their line of sight. Whether they were found out or not, one thing was certain: both were determined only to finish what they’d started. Kagami held on firmly to Aomine’s slick hip with one hand, holding the hem of his shirt in his teeth to keep it out of the way. He looked down to watch his cock nearly pull out before ramming right back into Aomine’s ass, the way his muscular build had just enough fleshiness to jiggle in the right spots when he did. The faster and deeper he went, the more he saw it. So faster and deeper was how he did it. Every time, a little bit more than before.

A whimper came creaking out of Aomine, a ragged breath following. He was trying to hold it in, but it might not have been any use. Kagami was fucking him with such power that he couldn’t be expected to go completely mute. Instead, Kagami folded over him, keeping his hips rocking shallow but at just as relentless a pace. He clapped his free hand over Aomine’s mouth, felt teeth brush his palm as Aomine opened his lips on a silent scream. 

He spurted into Kagami’s hand and threw himself back into his thrusts at the same time. Come dripped onto the floor between Kagami’s fingers as Aomine’s tightness spasmed around his cock, launching him into orgasm. 

Kagami’s whole brain fizzled for just a second, the sensation enough to make him croak out a moan of pleasure as he came inside of Touou Gakuen’s unstoppable Ace. They were on top of the world in their final high school season. It seemed to be what Kagami had needed. He would be so relaxed when he strode into battle the next day that even the hardest attacks would roll off his back like nothing. Kuroko would know exactly what was going on, but luckily he was never one to feel jealous. 

The voices stopped talking, but the footsteps didn’t move. Panting as quietly as they could, both Kagami and Aomine halted and waited, thrown back into the reality of the risk while their brains crashed back down from the rush at once. Kagami’s heartbeat echoed in his ears. Was he hearing the footsteps moving closer to their hiding spot? Or not?

“It was probably nothing,” someone said. “Come on, let’s just go.”

“Yeah, come on!”

“All right, fine.”

There had been a group of at least three, mere yards away. The footsteps joined together and walked off. After a few more seconds passed, Aomine rolled his shoulders beneath Kagami. “Fuck, you’re still pretty hard.” 

Sighing with multifarious relief, Kagami leaned back and pulled out of Aomine with a grunt. “It’s your fault. Those back-to-back dunks in the third quarter alone, I mean—“

“Sometimes,” Aomine interrupted, pulling his shorts back to his waist, “I wish I could turn you on just by standing around and looking hot. Like normal couples do.”

“Well,” Kagami caught him at the wall again, and pushed their noses together before offering him a chuckling kiss. “There’ll be plenty of time for that after we’re done with the tournament.”

“After we slaughter your asses in the finals, you mean.” Aomine dodged a second kiss, and after he spoke he nibbled at Kagami’s bottom lip.

“Is that a promise?”

Aomine only smirked.


End file.
